


put down your sword and crown (come lay with me on the ground)

by the_milliners_rook



Series: your soul knows both sides [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Masaki Lives Isshin Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1430266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_milliners_rook/pseuds/the_milliners_rook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. When her old man dies to save Ichi-nii’s life, everything changes. Days after the funeral, the word Quincy is spoken for the first time, and at five years old, Karin becomes defined by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put down your sword and crown (come lay with me on the ground)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 3 of HitsuKarin Week 2014. Prompt: AU.
> 
> Title taken from Passion Pit's song 'Moth Wings'.

When her old man dies to save Ichi-nii’s life, everything changes. Days after the funeral, the word Quincy is spoken for the first time, and at five years old, Karin becomes defined by it.

Her mother tells them stories about the man she married, the father Karin doesn’t remember these days more than inklings of a dream, and that he saved Ichi-nii from an evil spirit called Hollows when they were walking home together from the dojo by the riverbanks. She tells them of the secrets that were kept secrets to protect them, but she knows now that this is no longer an option, and it is better to let them know of the mixed blood they carry. She tells them that it makes them special and she loves them with her entire heart. She tells them that it makes them dangerous and extra tasty and she can teach them how they can be careful.

Kurosaki Masaki teaches her children how to summon their bows that have always been a part of them, flickering in the back of their mind, and when it materializes in their small hands, she teaches them how to hold it steady, keep it constant, how to fire and aim, and most importantly, how to never miss their target.

She raises them to be children of the Quincy, introduces them to the family that she used to belong to, grinning while the man they now call uncle fumbles with the words _welcome home_ while she throws her arms around him.

The Quincy history is a long and complicated one, forgotten by the rest of humanity because the mundane cannot see spirits as they can, and so they overlook it in their ignorance. People who can’t see spirits are blessed, even if they aren’t always untouched by the supernatural. Yuzu disagrees, though. She doesn’t think she’s blessed for not being able to see spirits like everyone else can.

Kurosaki Masaki reminds her children that they shouldn’t hate the _shinigami._ After all, she married one. She loved him.

 

 

It’s difficult to be half-Quincy and half- _shinigami_ and to call themselves human.

Even if Quincies _are_ humans who have been given the ability to fight for themselves, seeing spirits and exterminating Hollows, Karin does not feel human.

It’s difficult to feel human when she has to hide her powers all the time, holding her head low, lying when she says that she didn’t see a spirit being eaten by another because she didn’t know how to fire an arrow and keep her bow there _long enough_ and she _still_ can’t aim properly. It’s frustrating, because only she gets to see these horrific things, while everyone else is oblivious and she is useless.

Karin does not call herself human, but nor does she call herself Quincy or _shinigami_ or something in between. She is _different_ , like Ichi-nii, like Yuzu, and different is something she tries not to dwell upon.

What does it even mean to be a _shinigami_?

Her mother shrugs and says it means being a spirit, being able to fight with a sword, being able to help spirits in ways they cannot. _Shinigami_ bring balance, Quincies tip the scales, if used in excess.

On most days, Karin calls herself a Quincy, because Uryuu understands the constant thrum in her hands, Kaa-chan understands why her fingers itch and feel restless, and that’s the reason she drums her fingers against flat surfaces. There’s an invisible bow brushing the palm of her hands still.

Instinctively, she curves against her weapon and feels the weight of the cross on her wrist tangle in her hand. Without it, she does not feel safe.

The bow is a ghost weapon and her fingers flex automatically around it, its protection bright and blue and searing in her mind.

 

 

Karin doesn’t have friends. It’s still too difficult to differentiate spirit from human when both are corporeal and talk to her because they see her and she sees them. It confuses her, distinguishing human from spirit, but she’s learning. Practising. She used to be bullied because of this, talking to no one, apparently, and then her old man died. Soon after that, she stopped crying.

The tears dried on the back of her sweaty hands, turning more callous each day as she practised holding her bow in place and remembered how to breathe.

By learning how to fight back and act tough, she stops being bullied, and she has no reason to cry anymore. So Karin fought back, acted tough, and the bullies backed away. So did everyone else. Except Yuzu, that is, remaining by her side faithfully at school.

It’s enough to know that she isn’t alone. Yuzu understands, and Karin wonders if there’s resentment in the way she holds on, because at school, it is Yuzu who can conform and fit in seamlessly with everyone else because she can’t see spirits. But if there’s resentment, Yuzu doesn’t give anything away.

And yet—

Yuzu has friends. She’s likable, easy to get along with.

Karin… isn’t.

“It’s alright.” Her mother squeezes her hand, kisses Karin’s forehead. “We’ve all gone through this. You’ll get better, you’ll learn.” Karin nods, mouth shaking, and she has not gotten better at learning to hide her tears, though she promised that she wouldn’t let another drop spill, Her mother’s arms are warm and soothing, and Karin closes her eyes, listening to the soothing murmurs before she falls asleep. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”

 

 

Ichi-nii says, “It won’t always be like that.”

He says that when he knows how to scowl and grimace and break his friendship with Tatsuki because he wasn’t strong enough to protect their father. He shattered his friendship and refused to talk to her again until he knew how to heal and apologize. He scuffs his shoes on the floor and tentatively asks if he can hang out with her again, that he’s sorry for avoiding her, and if she wants, she can hit him.

Ichi-nii says, “You learn how to lie.”

When he hangs out with Tatsuki again, there’s a bruise on his face, but he’s grinning, like it’s worth it, lying is worth it, just so he can keep his friendship. One little white lie.

Ichi-nii says, “It’s not fair, I know, but this way I can protect them, right?”

It’s not fair. He hates it. But he has to protect his friends, and the only way he can do that is by saying that he can’t see spirits, he never could. He was just a crazy kid with a vivid imagination. He rubs the back of his neck and grins a crooked smile, like it’s breaking him inside because he didn’t know better.

Tatsuki looks at Ichi-nii and sees right through him.

 

 

“What are we?” Karin mumbles, curling into Yuzu, her half, her one and only, draped lazily over the bed they share, her thoughts mired and steeped in these questions that persist her even when her hair has grown long. But she’s tired and sleepy, and so she returns to her thoughts and speaks them aloud in the darkness, with only her sister to hear. She knows that they are the children of _shinigami_ and children of the Quincy, but Karin has never known what that makes them.

“Human.” Yuzu answers, small and embracing, shifting slightly to be more accommodating. She steals more of the sheet. “We’re human, Karin.”

“Half, maybe.” Karin concedes, still cynical of that word. She doesn’t trust it, doesn’t like it. “You seem more human than any of us.”

“No,” Yuzu states flatly, digging her nails in Karin’s side, annoyance evident. It’s not painful, exactly, but Karin still feels a pinprick of hurt. Yuzu’s never liked it when Karin talks about her like this, and she does her best to snap Karin out of this train of thought. “It’s genetics, or the luck of the draw, but I am what you are, Karin. I am.”

“Then why,” Karin whispers, voice choking, and tries not to tighten her hold onto her sister, and she doesn’t know if she pities or is jealous of Yuzu, but she loves Yuzu with every fibre of her being, and it _hurts_ when she says this next question out loud. “Why can’t you _see?_ ”

There is silence for a long time.

Silence, darkness, and the warmth of her sister beside her.

“Ryuu-oji-san told me once,” Yuzu says, soft, placating, struggling to remain so, and Karin gives in. She holds her sister so tight that she nearly misses what Yuzu says next. But she can’t ignore the note of unhappiness. “Sometimes it just happens.”

 

 

There’s another question there that remains hidden in the darkness, and yet, it feels moon-bright, streaming through the open window, no matter how unspoken it is. Yuzu hears it, and doesn’t answer.

If she can’t see, then she doesn’t have high enough spiritual powers.

If she doesn’t have high enough spiritual powers, then she can’t make the Quincy bow.

Even though she has the blood of Quincy running through her veins, she can’t. She clutches the cross in her hand, presses it so hard that there are indents on her skin, and she answers the question all the same and both of them pretend that Yuzu has answered the question Karin aloud.

Sometimes it just happens.

It doesn’t mean she’s loved any less.

 

 

Friendship, Karin learns, is a lot like learning how to fight. It’s a struggle, sometimes worth it, sometimes not. It’s frustrating at the worst of times, but it grounds her, keeps her on her toes. She learns how to pick and choose, and wait for the bruises to heal.

She learns by watching her siblings, by pretending to be ‘normal’, observing Yuzu when they’re not attached to the hip. It annoys her when people can’t believe that they’re sisters. Uryuu’s never had much patience for it, preferring to be distant and carry that air of haughtiness around him that tells people to leave him alone, but Ichi-nii’s never had much patience for that kind of attitude, so they spend most of dinner snarking at each other.

Friendship, like fighting, happens when she least expects it. Karin pays more attention to playing soccer, focusing her skill, and noticing that there are other people surrounding on her, and suddenly she’s shouting at them because they’re _idiots_ and she knows better.  And then her hot temper gets the better of her, and she boasts that she should be team captain because she’d never lead them wrong.

That turns out to be a mistake. But it’s a learning curve, and Karin adjusts.

Karin learns her own way to deliberately mislead her friends and stay quiet about the supernatural world that forgets about her friends unless they feel hungry.  They call her bad-tempered and moody and surly and Karin glowers at them because they’re _stupid_ and she’s learnt long ago that she can’t pretend to ignore Hollows when she’s always on the menu.

But she feels her most human when she’s making her mistakes with them, forgetting about the supernatural when she can, and it’s these four idiots who make her laugh the most.

There are days when she feels manipulative and awful because she keeps them close, but only at arm’s length. Those days she understands why Uryuu keeps to himself unless Ichi-nii pesters him. She can only pretend that she is ‘normal’ for so long, but grudgingly, listens to her family’s advice. Being a Quincy and a _shinigami_ is only one part of her. Nobody needs to know.

So she buries her secret in the muddy playing field and runs, dribbling the ball and passing to a person in her team.

As far as her friends know, Karin is a normal girl, conforming to what the school believes a Kurosaki is: slightly grouchy, bad tempered, a little strange and solitary, and ultimately, human.

 

 

Yuzu doesn’t mind that she can’t see spirits like the rest of her family. She sees glimpses sometimes, or she’s able to make a flicker of her bow appear, fragile as candlelight. It’s a beautiful, translucent blue, lasting seconds.

She is dearly loved, and she’s part of the family secret.

Honestly, Karin thinks she’s the luckiest of them all.

 

 

To be a Quincy means that she can’t pretend that spirits are invisible when they’re a constant threat. It’s in her blood, she has the power to protect and save and exterminate. It’s in Yuzu’s blood too, only, somehow, it’s almost non-existent. And that means that Karin has to protect her.

Karin would rather be a Quincy if that means she could save her sister’s life.

 

 

When her mother meets her father, it’s raining.

When Karin meets a _shinigami_ for the first time, it is blue skies and sunshine.

It couldn’t be more different.

 

 

History, Karin has heard, repeats itself. It loves irony and circles, and dooming those who refuse to yield.

She wonders how differently things would have gone if only her father had lived and her mother had died. How much would have changed?

In spite of all her mother’s stories that she wouldn’t take any of it back; that Isshin died saving Ichi-nii’s life that rainy day; that she still loves rainy days; Karin is determined that she will not be like them.

They’re two sides of the same coin: Quincy and _shinigami._ Only those who can see and fight can understand.

History will not be the same this time around.

 

 

He looks normal, and it throws her off-guard the first time Karin lays her eyes on him. She’s seen spirits her entire life, she’s learnt how to distinguish spirits from humans, watching for the trick of the light, and she misses it when she sees him.

He looks normal, and Karin ignores him as she walks back from school, like she does for everyone else she can’t be bothered to speak to, absentmindedly kicking the ball in front of her.

The mistake is hers alone.

She disregards him for just another kid who’s absorbed in their phone and prefers to be by themselves, and if that thought doesn’t make her accidentally kick the ball too hard, Karin doesn’t know what will. She chases after it, and never pauses to spare him a second glance. Instead, she stops the ball with the heel of her shoe, and then gently flicks it forward.

He looks normal, and Karin does not look back.

 

 

When she sees him again in the centre of the street, slaying a Hollow, she recognizes him from before, that kid who was by himself on that hill, and something inside her roars. She’s staring, she knows, but she can’t help it.

It makes her angry, realizing that she was fooled into thinking that he was just a normal stupid kid when it’s so clear he’s not.

She makes herself stop staring, grazing her shoes against the tarmac, distracting herself by hiding her clenched fists inside her jeans, and straightening out her shoulders, raising her head high.

Karin walks straight past him. Her heart hammers all the way home.

 

 

“What are you doing here, _shinigami_?” Karin asks, finding him the next day on the sunset hill that he likes so much.

She feels her bow’s outline under her fingertips, listens to it crackle in the back of her mind. The sound soothes her, and in that moment, she achieves perfect tranquillity. She can draw at any time.

She knows the stories from her mother. She’s heard how her father used to be in the tenth division and how it was marked by the insignia of a daffodil. Her old man didn’t speak much about his life before he met her mother, but he’d said enough, it seems.

When Karin looks at him, she doesn’t feel hate, as she thought she would. There are other words to describe it—interest, burgeoning slowly into curiosity—interest, curiosity and capriciousness—but not hatred.

Maybe she’d listened to her mother after all.

He looks more like a child soldier, he looks a little bit like her: defiant and eyes too sharp, too wary. Karin does not pity him just yet. If he is like her, that means he was raised to be like this, a protector from the other side.

There’s a lot to be said about the way he looks at her. And this _shinigami_ barely does that, glancing at her briefly, seeing the casual clothes, dismisses her just like that. Like he considers her nothing more than a pest, a mortal human being made special because she can see him in his black uniform and knows what he is.

“Why should I tell you?” He asks, precarious and careful, all the things her mother warned her about. Only she had never said that a _shinigami_ could look so _young_.

“My home, my turf.” Karin states, approaching him slowly. Her teeth are bared back as she forms a smile and tries hard not to snarl. She longs to tell him to get out and ask him where was he when her father died. Did he know her father? But the questions remain unvoiced, and Karin scrutinizes him instead.

The horizon changes the tips of his too-white hair, and it reminds Karin of snow, snow and misty mountains, streaked across a sky that is so very blue.

He grunts. “I have a job to do.” And Karin understands.

She’s seen that look countless times. It’s the same on Ichi-nii’s face when he comes back slightly bloodied and his clothes are torn. It’s the same on her mother’s face and her bright smile feels slightly strained, and sunlight smiles are terribly flawed on cloudy days.

Karin keeps her own face composed, tries not to let the recognition show and rearranges her features into something cocky.

“What a pity you won’t be able to carry it out.”

His eyes narrow. The closer she gets, the greener they are.

“You wouldn’t know how, you’re a just—”

“Human? Am I?” Karin smirks, fingers outstretching as her bow materializes out of thin air. It’s the perfect extension of her soul, beautifully made in the dusk glow, poised and blue and humming, and it’s worth being this dramatic because otherwise she’s certain she would have missed seeing the _shinigami’_ s eyes widen. Her Quincy cross hangs heavy on her wrist, growing heavier as the pressure spikes the air. “Want to bet?”

She knows she’s being reckless, but it’s too intoxicating not to continue. Uryuu’s going to get so annoyed, and she knows that she’s going to get into so much trouble because Ryuuken is tired of patching her up too. Karin’s always been too hot-tempered for her own good, never able to back away from fights like these, and she’s caught up in her own curiosity and heedlessness to care.

Never before has she seen a _shinigami_ this close, and she doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. Will he rise to her challenge or will he walk away?

“You’re a Quincy.” He states, and Karin is close enough to see that his mouth has curved into an arrogant smirk, and she is too far away to wipe it off with her fist.

Disappointed, she sighs. “What gave it away?” She drawls, boredom laced acerbically in the cadence of her voice, and tilts her head to the side. She’s seen Ichi-nii make his face uninterested in the actual response plenty of times when he’s out on patrol. Karin figures she might as well practice. “Was it the cross or the bow?”

“Why aren’t you wearing white?”

It always comes down the uniform.

“Because some of use prefer looking normal when hunting Hollows instead of wearing hideous fashion statements.” Karin deadpans, giving him an eye-roll. It’s not like wearing white is a _requirement_. “Not all of us are able to be invisible.”

He looks at her, expressionless until she’s certain that it’s his version of taunting, until he shrugs.

“It’s just as well,” the _shinigami_ says, leaning back against the rails, continuing before she has the chance to ask what he means by that. “White wouldn’t suit you anyway.”

An arrow is fired before Karin even _thinks_ , temper flaring in the blink of an eye. It’s a purposeful miss, mind, despite her instant reaction. Karin may stupid, but she’s not _that_ stupid to kill him over something so petty.

“You haven’t met my cousin. You haven’t seen what he’s done with the new uniform.” Karin retorts, refraining from mentioning that the new uniform had to be redesigned a thousand times because Uryuu likes keeping with the trends and each design varies from simplicity itself to pointlessly overcomplicated. It’s not like anyone except Uryuu wears them, but everyone insists that there should be no capes. “Better to be wearing casual clothes with an obligatory cross than _that_ gaudy outfit.”

If he’s insulting the Quincy uniform, then she has to insult his own.

His stunned expression quickly changes into a glare, and Karin grins, preferring that look on his face.

“See you later, _shinigami_ , I’ve got a Hollow to kill.”

 

 

It’s a team effort that slays the Hollow.

Karin stands in the side-lines, while the short _shinigami_ changes in front, saving her in just the nick of time. She knows she has reckless streak, but _come on._ That’s showing off, and he knows it.

“Guess you’re not so useless after all.” Brusquely, Karin says, because no one says something stupid like _well done_ to people brought up to kill evil spirits. Her voice is breathless and she’s still struggling to reclaim her stolen air, but at least she feels steadier on her feet now. She makes her bow vanish. “I had him on the ropes though.”

“Sure you did.” He replies, almost absent-minded. He stares at her, still in his ridiculous outfit while she’s in casual jeans and a striped pink shirt. “Who are you, Quincy?”

“Why do you want to know?” Narrowing her eyes, Karin watches him with distrust. She can taste blood in her mouth—she must have bitten the inside of her cheek too hard again. It’s a habit of hers that happens when she gets distracted and can’t fully concentrate.

“I’m curious.” He says offhand, regarding her differently than before. When he looks at her like that, Karin wants to take a step back, because she never would have guessed that he’d look so intense. “I’ve never met a Quincy before.”

“I’ve never met a _shinigami_ before.” She echoes, and holds her ground, waiting for him to approach her.

He extends his hand like a peace-offering and Karin watches this throat lower, swallowing,

“I’m Hitsugaya Toushirou.” He says, introducing himself. It’s a name that suits him, Karin decides. A good name.

“Kurosaki Karin.” She takes his hand and gives him a strong handshake, liking the way he grips her hand in response, testing her mettle. She still feels like running, like challenging him all over again, but at least now she knows that he’s not so bad. “I’ll see you around, _shinigami._ ”

She makes sure to give him a backhanded wave as she walks away.

 

 

She knows how her father and mother met and fell in love.

Karin swears that history will not repeat itself.


End file.
